Blonde.

I've been spending a great deal of time outside in the sun since in the two months that I've been living in Spain. (Yes, it really has been two whole months now.) I'm wearing plenty of sunscreen and up until today was actually looking forward to the natural effects the sun would have on my hair. I was hoping for lovely sunkissed highlights. But unfortunantly I'm affraid I've been sporting a dumb blonde look lately. Sigh... here's the story.
Last week at lunch after the Hash I was given a series of questions to test my validity as an American. I did very well and at one point stunned the group of on lookers (nearly all men) by asking the question, "When does East end and West begin," in response to a question regarding which state was the farthest East. The gents made a comment about that being something a blonde female doesn't usually ask. Then the proceeded to tell their favorite dumb blonde jokes. Of course, this is all in good fun, but I was quite proud of myself for not fitting into their stereotype.
Once you've been to the Hast several times you are awarded a nickname. Names are often inappropriate, generally embarassing, and always have a story behind them. I thought my success in being anything but a dumb blonde would pay off down the road. I thought for sure I would be awarded a cool cleaver name because I had been so cool and clever last week. Unforfuntantly, I am pretty sure that has all be thrown out the window this week.
This week's Hash was in Colmenar Viejo, a ton one train stop north of Tres Cantos. I thought in order to save myself some time I would take the train then walk to the car park to meet up with the hashers. When I got off the train this afternoon I started walking in the general direction google earth had told me to go. Being the blonde that I am I forgot my written directions at home and now had to rely on my memory to direct me. I walked along until I met a couple. I asked them if they knew where camino del Pardo was. The man pulled out his GPS thingermagig and and found it on a map for me. I walked back the way I came confident that I would be able to find some flour arrows (left by the hashers) on the ground at any moment. It didn't take me long to figure out I was going to be late for the run, but I kept walking. After a bit I figured I had missed the hash, but could do some wandering about and sightseeing and maybe I would find my way to the Hash eventually. An hour later I found an arrow. I followed it's path until I passed the road I had been on near the train station. If only I hadn't asked for directions!! I followed the arrows and finally FINALLY! wonder of wonders, I found the Hash. I was two and a half hours late and had walked over 6 miles, but I made it.
Everyone asked me where I had come from and how I had gotten there, but I wasn't affraid to admit it. I got lost. I thought I could save myself some time, but I didn't. I thought I was using my noggin' and knew my way around, but I didn't. I thought all the sun had done was make my hair a little lighter, but it didn't. It sucked out my brains! All this time, after graduating from university I thought I knew everything. Well, much to my shagrin, I don't!
To celebrate getting lost and walking and surviving I got to drink a green beer in front of the whole group. Then I turned around and drank another to celebrate the fact that this was my second Hash.
My humbling experience will surely be held against me and a nickname will soon result. No worries though, I got a good walk out of it. Next Sunday, I'm meeting at Larry's Bar and someone can drive me to the Hash. I'm not going to risk getting lost again. Plus, now I have to work damage control and prove that I'm not a dumb blonde. I'll let you know how it goes.

Today's photos were taken in Colmenar Viejo.